


Red Moonlight

by Fushiacircle



Category: Claymore (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Clare is paranoid, Confused Clare, Denial, Grief/Mourning, Hallucinations, Insanity, Multi, Paranoia, Possibly Unrequited Love, Post-Canon, Raki is ageless, Raki tries to help, Swordplay, some try to help
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-02-09 08:49:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18634819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fushiacircle/pseuds/Fushiacircle
Summary: Every yoma had been killed in the continent. The people celebrate their newfound freedom and are grateful for their saviors. The Claymores can finally rest. Clare doesn't celebrate nor rest--how could she, when there could be an awakened being hidden from them?





	1. Prologue

Clare shoved through the crowd. It didn’t take long for them to part for her automatically. She could sense the yoki in the center of the crowd. She thrusted her sword at the person, the man, before she could even see his face. The crowd parted away. Their yells and screams were as casual to her as the crickets in a forest. Blood poured to the ground before the man twitched and transformed into a yoma. The yoma limped towards the crowd, though it had no injuries. Clare wouldn't fall for a silly trap. The people ran to the houses, alleys or behind carts and horses. 

"Please...I'm human!" The yoma wept, tears running down its dreadful yellow eyes. Clare grunted when she sliced its neck, its head dropping to the ground. More screams from the crowd. Its body fell forward. Blood pooled the street, her shoes. She swiped her sword to throw the blood out before placing her sword on her back. She walked on the road and out of the town, feeling that she wouldn't be welcomed there. Their eyes showed fear and hatred. Some began wailing and crying out a name. It might've been the human host's family. 

Raki trailed after her. He didn't know whether to tell the townsfolk that Clare truly believed she was killing a yoma, not an innocent man. But how would people react to an claymore that was losing her mind? What would her comrades do? They had killed each other to preserve their humanity from the depths of yoki. Raki didn't want to think that this was almost the same. This could be fixed. Clare just needed a companion, someone to rely on. A lover. She had friends and Raki was happy to see her less solitary, but the distance between her and the world was still there. He would walk that distance. For her and for the people.


	2. Now and Then

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Claymore and it’s characters belong to Norihiro Yagi. 
> 
> I have to credit shelter’s comment for inspiring me to write again. So I dedicate this chapter to her.

Clare had marched in the South when the claymores declared the continent ‘freed from yoma’. 

In the beginning of her life, her travels had been defined by her family; then by the yoma that killed them; then by Teresa; then by the organization(but truly, and even after she deserted the organization, it had been Priscilla); and then by Miria, who led the crusade against the remaining awakened beings. 

In the end, they established that they wouldn’t leave the continent. If the organization hadn’t been ready to fight their enemies with the warriors and the experimental beings that they already had, surely it wasn’t worth risking the people’s lives for a conflict that hasn’t reached them. 

But the danger was still inside the continent. The yoma hasn’t disappeared. Although the humans refused to accept that yoma still existed, Clare forgave their rudeness. Bliss engulfed her when Priscilla was destroyed by Teresa. It was a feeling she would cherish forever. 

She barely remembers what village life was like. But even the crows could see the wrinkles corpses and the melancholic serenity of the grieving. No more messy flesh, no more fires. Natural death was common again. The paranoia was fading away with the new generation. Only the older humans still remembered the terror. 

Clare could recognize Raki’s heavy footsteps in a midst of battle. Her heart grew fond despite the tension lining her shoulders. She continued walking. Raki caught up to her, his smile weak.

“Clare! It’s been a while.” He hugged her, his arms too loose. He let go quickly. “I saw how you killed that yoma! It was great.” 

“You could say so.” Clare thumped her fist on his arm. Just like she did when she farewelled him years ago, when she left to fight a male awakened being with Miria, Deneve and Helen.

Raki’s smile dropped and he looked away. His hand gripped the blade strapped to his back, risking a cut. He forced himself to look at her again. Clare smiled at him, her pale lips closed, her cheeks squinting the corners of her gray eyes. 

Raki’s smile returned too quickly, rushed by the fluttering in his chest. “It’s good to see you again. I know you don’t eat much, but the crocs near here are delicious, and I can cook ’em well.” He almost flinched at his own accent. Speak well! 

Clare glanced at the sky. The sun was near the horizon. It would set in a few hours. Raki had already done that sort of time-tracking dozens of times; Zaki had taught him the trick when he was still a boy, just like his father had taught Zaki. 

But he let her do it. He knew Clare wasn’t one to be helped with everything. He stroked the sword’s flat side with a twitchy finger. When she glanced back at him, his entire being paused. 

“Sure.” 

Raki sighed out his body’s nervous ticking. “There’s this river a mile east. We can get there before sunset and I’ll have it ready before that.” 

Clare had never seen Raki hunt. In the days after the Organization’s fall, most of the food hunting was done by Helen and Deneve. It wasn’t a secret that Helen craved food the most. And Deneve followed her everywhere. 

Thinking of the pair had brought the memory of Jean following her. Clare never found herself attracted to Deneve, only considering her a trustworthy comrade(even a close friend), but she found traits of Jean in her. The seriousness, the dedication, the trailing. While Deneve went on her own often, it was enough for Clare to almost envy Helen. And for her to almost envy Deneve when Helen followed.

No one had time to envy when they had to kill awakened beings every other day. But her eyes flickered to Helen and Deneve standing close enough for their arms to touch. Deneve going even farther away from their camp just so Helen could find those precious apples. The two of them battling side by side, using each other’s strengths to compensate for the other’s weakness, as though they were soul-linked. 

It was Raki that put it into words, years ago. “They’re like a couple.” 

No one talked about romance. Clare didn’t even want to think about wether ‘claymores’ could or should love. If she did, she would know what Jean meant to her. She didn’t need that now. She was gone. Yet being distant gave her the consequence of being surrounded by thoughts more often than not, whenever she wasn’t battling or tracking yoma. It was always Teresa, but Jean was not far behind. 

The saltwater river was shallow. The crocodiles laid on the dirt near each other, but a few were farther apart. Some were digging nests. Raki pointed them out from the hillrise. “It’s not right to kill them. Even if they are separated. But there’s a lone male there.” He gestured at a crocodile that stalked towards them, its jaw unhinged. Clare gripped her sword’s handle, but Raki shook his head. 

“It’s on me.” Raki unsheathed his sword and approached the croc. The beast hissed and lunged at him. Raki jumped over its jaws and stepped on its back, gripping the tail for balance with one hand and cutting it off. The croc let out a loud hiss and shook Raki off. Raki rolled and stood, running up the hill with the croc at his heels. 

“Hold on to this for me.” Raki handed it to Clare before facing the croc. He sidestepped a bite and swung down on its neck. The croc’s head dropped in a growing river of its own blood. Flies emerged to hover over the red downhill stream. 

Raki rubbed his chin. It was cruel to cut off the tail first. He looked up at Clare. Her mouth was slightly open as she stared at him, before she turned and headed towards her direction. Raki grinned lightly. He owed the croc, and he would repay it by not letting its death be in vain. 

***  
“I heard that the tail is the most nutritious part.” Raki’s rag didn’t protect him against the intense heat of his portion. He had skinned and cooked the tail, cutting a small part for Clare. He tried not to feel like a selfish glutton. Cooking for claymores meant that he cut small portions but they were so many that he had an average piece for himself. The illusion was gone here.

“Where did you hear that?” Clare’s lips hovered over the meat, steam grazing her skin.

“Uh, from a butcher. Yeah, a butcher from here.” Raki patted himself in the arm for that save. He wasn’t the best liar—he had left that duty to Clare— and he had honed his skill. Somewhat. Just not with her eyes boring through his soul. 

Clare casted him a glance before continuing her nibbling. Raki slouched with relief. Guilt curled in him. How could he lie to her? It was a white lie, he assured himself, like the hundreds of lies he had told to dozens of people. 

Seeing Clare again was making him silly. 

She ate half of the hand-sized portion before handing it to him. Raki stood and placed the meat on the top of a rise. “For the crows or ants. Whoever catches it first.” 

*^*^*^*  
Clare slept early, Raki’s concerned features disappearing for darkness. One would say that she was dreaming with herself in her younger body. Straight, reddish brown hair reaching her hips and a fragile fringe laying on her forehead. She wore the clothes Teresa had bought for her long ago. Even the shoes. 

Teresa’s radiant form emerged from the darkness. She opened her arms, her smile reaching her eyes. Clare whimpered and ran to her, embracing her with tears running down her eyes. 

“Oh, Clare, it’s the same every time.” Teresa’s voice was light and teasing. She held Clare, stroking her hair. “You killed another yoma, one that no other warrior could find. I’m proud of you.” 

Clare’s green gaze set on her. She smiled. “I’m getting better at sensing them! Their movements too.” 

“I know. I saw it, you know.” Teresa said. Her smile slowly fell, replaced by her famous faint one. “Be careful with Raki.” 

Clare frowned. “Okay.” 

“You can ask why.” Teresa suggested. Clare perked up; Teresa was clearly letting her know that she can ask. It warmed her insides. 

“Why?” 

“Jean.” Teresa closed her eyes. That was all she needed to say.


End file.
